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And in that he would eat no more, rather than that he was angry, Labiskwee cried and in his arms sobbed herself to sleep. But he lay on awake, marveling at the love and the wonder of woman. The time came when the last food was gone. The high peaks receded, the divides became lower, and the way opened promisingly to the west.
Even as Smoke saw this, her hand went to her hip and flashed with the sheath-knife in it. "Labiskwee!" Smoke cried, and his voice was peremptory. The hand hesitated. "Don't," he said, coming to her side. She was shaking with anger, but the hand, after hesitating a moment longer, descended reluctantly to the sheath.
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